Maximum Exposure (10 page)

Chantelle, a sharp-faced, lank-haired bony woman who’d been at the paper for years, shrugged. ‘I’ll try, of course. Might need to get an issue out first, give everyone a taste for the new
Herald
. Make it a corker, can you?’

‘Good issues ’r us. Corkers take a little longer.’

‘We’ll see what we can do.’

‘OK, team?’

‘OK,’ they chorused, grinning.

For the first time since Jay Bond had arrived, they felt inspired to work with him for the benefit of the paper.

Chapter Seventeen

Ben, happily crushed close to Daisy by the crowd, watched her crooning out the words the band was singing, swaying to the seductive beat of the music, her arms above her head, waving in time with the rest of the concert goers.

He wasn’t really listening to the lyrics. Something about school … ?

School. The smile on his face grew even wider. Daisy Irvine as a schoolgirl had been the bonniest thing that walked the planet, so far as he could remember. You didn’t see it, of course, when you grew up with someone. He’d been – what – seventeen when the hormones had kicked in and he’d realised that his fourteen-year-old companion had something to recommend her other than her ability to hopscotch across a burn on wobbly stones without falling in.

Blue spotlights arced across the skies then swept over the crowds. Daisy was momentarily bathed in the rich deep colour. He saw her like a blue angel, her dark hair bouncing round her face, sapphire glinting in every strand. Her eyes, usually so strikingly pale and grey, seemed to absorb all the colour of the beam and assumed for a few seconds the hue of velvet, rich and sumptuous. She looked brilliant. He put his arms around her and hugged her close. For a moment she melted happily into his embrace, then pulled away and continued to dance, in the dark again, one among thousands.

‘Enjoying it?’ she shouted at him, the whites of her eyes and the gleam of her teeth the most visible part of her as the song died and the
X Factor
runner-up segued into the final part of the concert.

He nodded and grinned. Enjoying it? The music was good, yes, but being here with Daisy, so comfortably, so happily together – yes he was enjoying it. And the rest.

‘
You know I love you …
’

Love? Hard one, that. He’d loved Martina, or he thought he had. But it had faded, over time, among all the pressures of life. She’d changed. People changed. Why would it be any different with Daisy, if he could ever move this relationship on?

Love. Yes. ‘Whatever love means.’ Who’d said that? Of course. Prince Charles. Famously, on getting engaged to Diana Spencer. What an odd thing to say. It had jarred at the time and had come back to haunt him. But he’d been right, in a way. Love was many things to many people, something quite different, no doubt, to a prince of the realm. He was no prince, though, and Daisy no princess.

The band struck its last chord, the cheers were deafening, the calls for encore even louder. Ben put his hand under Daisy’s elbow and began to steer her towards the exit.

‘Must we go?’ He could sense, rather than hear the words.

He nodded. They had to make their way back to Queen Street Station in time for the last train so it was essential to beat the crowds out of the stadium.

‘Pure, dead brilliant,’ Daisy muttered sleepily as Ben’s car hiccupped cheerfully along the road from Edinburgh station back towards Hailesbank.

‘My ears are still humming.’

‘Pardon?’ She peered at him through the darkness. ‘I didn’t hear you, my ears have gone a bit deaf.’

Ben laughed and steered the car onto the city bypass. Soon they were speeding along the empty road. They’d be home in twenty minutes at this rate. Would she ask him in? Could he kiss her tonight? Much as he longed to, the transition from work-mate to lover was not an easy one.

‘Fancy a coffee?’

‘Sure. Quick one. Thanks.’ Quick? He hoped not. It just sounded polite. Late though it was, inside the cottage the lights were still ablaze and he could hear music. They stepped straight into the kitchen.

‘Have a seat.’ She pulled a chair out from the table, folded a newspaper that had been left open, tidied a pile of paperwork and moved some dirty plates across to the sink. ‘Coffee? Tea? Glass of wine? Whisky? I think we’ve got some whisky,’ she opened a cupboard and peered into it hopefully.

‘Tea would be good. A large mug with milk and lots of sugar. Thanks.’ God, she looked delicious from behind. She’d lost weight recently. When he’d first seen her, at Angus MacMorrow’s funeral, she’d looked a bit on the dumpy side. Not that he’d minded, but she did look better without the love handles. She’d ditched the baggy sweaters too. Her jeans fitted in all the right places.

‘Let’s go and sit in front of the fire. I think Lizzie’s still up.’

He felt a surge of disappointment. He wanted Daisy Irvine all to himself. But he rose obediently, mug in hand, and followed her into a small room where a fire flickered feebly in a black grate. He had the impression of red walls and richly swathed curtains and big comfy chairs before he saw that there was indeed someone lying across one of the chairs. He saw long legs draped across a plump, overstuffed arm and a pale hand trailing near the floor, then a cascade of light brown hair.

‘Lizzie, this is … Oh. I think she’s asleep.’

‘Perhaps we should sit in the kitchen.’ Ben started to retreat.

The body moved luxuriously, a log collapsed in the grate, and a pair of hazel eyes opened.

‘Hi.’ Lizzie swung her legs off the arm of the chair and stood up in one easy, graceful movement.

‘I’ve brought Ben in for a cuppa,’ Daisy said. ‘You know Ben?’

‘Hi,’ Lizzie said again and held out her hand.

Ben shook it and smiled. Despite wanting to be alone with Daisy, he couldn’t deny that this was one attractive woman.

‘I’ll cheer the fire up a bit.’ She swung round, crouched down in front of the embers, poked, prodded, added some small kindling and a few coals, and watched as the fire leapt into life.

‘Would you like some tea, Lizzie? There’s some still in the pot.’

‘Thanks. Yes please.’

Ben, seated in a low chair next to the fire, felt the warmth of the flames against his legs.

‘Good concert?’

‘Brilliant.’

‘Daisy enjoy it?’

‘What do you think?’

Lizzie’s gaze washed over him lazily. This girl is luscious, Ben thought appreciatively, taking in the fine oval face, the generously curved lips, the sheer self-confidence with which she was looking at him. Without even trying, she was reeling him in with a brand of sexuality he hadn’t come across in a long time – and most attractive of all, she appeared to be completely unconscious of it. As he looked at the softness of her mouth, the lips curled upwards at the ends, lifting into the prettiest of smiles. ‘I’m sure she did. I think going to the concert with you was probably the best things she’s done in a long time.’

‘Best thing who’s done in a long time?’ Daisy asked, re-entering the room with a mug for Lizzie.

‘You, sweetie,’ Lizzie smiled up at Daisy’s face. ‘I’ve been telling you for ages that you need to get out more and now you have.’

‘I’d go out every night if every night could be like that.’ Daisy settled herself down next to Ben. ‘Wasn’t it fantastic, Ben?’ she appealed to him.

‘Fantastic,’ he agreed, feeling the warmth of her thigh close to his and trying to ignore the effect it was having on him.

‘How’s the challenge coming along?’

‘Challenge?’

Lizzie’s brain had clearly jumped to another place and he hadn’t followed her.

‘The paper. Can you save it? Daisy told me about the meeting.’

‘Ah, the paper.’ He considered the matter for a second. Switching into professional mode wasn’t easy while he was sitting in this richly seductive room. ‘Yeah, that is a challenge.’

‘Don’t talk about it,’ Daisy groaned, ‘you’ll spoil my evening. I’ll only get stressed.’

Lizzie swung her feet to the floor and stood up in one fluid movement. She lifted her mug and took a couple of steps towards the door. ‘Sorry. Listen, I’m knackered, I’m off to bed. You two love birds need to be alone anyway.’

‘No, it’s OK, don’t go,’ Daisy protested.

‘Night night, sweetie,’ Lizzie blew her a kiss from the doorway. ‘Nice to meet you, Ben.’ She closed the door behind her, taking her sensuality with her.

‘Gorgeous, isn’t she?’ Daisy said.

‘Who?’

‘Lizzie, of course. She can’t help it. All the guys fall under her spell.’

‘Not me,’ Ben said, meaning it. You could appreciate a fine work of art without wanting to possess it.

Daisy said nothing, she just stared into the fire.

Ben closed his eyes. Outside, an owl hooted softly in the still of the night. The snows of earlier in the week had vanished and the temperature had risen perceptibly, but he was still grateful for the warmth of the fire. Inside the room, the only sound was the soft cracking of a log as it burned. Daisy was still sitting very close to him on the small sofa. Encouraged, he lifted his arm and put it round her shoulder, pulling her even closer. Her head dropped onto his shoulder and he could smell the fragrance of her hair.

‘Thanks for coming with me, Ben,’ she mumbled drowsily. ‘I had a great time.’

‘The pleasure was all mine,’ he said, resting his cheek on top of her head. He’d make a move soon. Turn her towards her. Lift her chin so that he could see right into those eyes. Kiss her gently, take his time. He was looking forward to it, treasuring the moment. No need to rush. She was within his grasp now. He could see the soft rise and fall of her breasts and longed to reach his hand forward and cup one, feel its soft warmth, steal under the thin fabric of the T-shirt and stroke the smooth skin until the nipple stood erect. He would trace the dark valley between her breasts with his fingers. Take his time. They had all night.

‘You two love birds.’ Daisy giggled and sat up, swinging round towards him out of his embrace. ‘That’s funny,’ she said. She swung herself off the sofa and threw another log on the fire, then poked it and nurtured in back into flames. ‘Do you remember that time we snogged, Ben? Under the old railway bridge? Then that man came along with his dog.’

Shocked out of his fantasy, Ben could feel his jaw tighten with disappointment. She didn’t come back to the sofa, but sat on the floor, her back to the overstuffed chair where Lizzie had been lying. She reached out for her tea, rested the mug on her knees, studied him, the firelight playing on one cheek, throwing her small nose into sharp relief.

‘What a laugh. You know,’ she sipped her tea thoughtfully, ‘I’m really quite glad he did come by. I mean, it was great fun, but I’d’ve hated to lose you as a friend and if we’d got it together, I probably would have.’

Ben didn’t respond. Fuck, he thought, looking at her. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She didn’t think of him the same way he thought of her. How had he misjudged it so badly? How had he allowed himself to think of tonight as a beginning?

‘D’you know,’ she was still prattling on, ‘that was my first kiss?’ She laughed. ‘I really liked it, Ben. You were a great kisser. I didn’t realise how good you were, of course, till a few other boys had tried it on.’ She grinned brightly at him. ‘In fact, till I met Jack, you were definitely the best.’

She had plunged in the knife and now she was twisting it. He felt pain. Actual pain. It surprised him. He hadn’t thought he was this keen on her. Or maybe it was just his pride that was wounded. Was he smiling? He hoped so. His mouth felt as if he was smiling, but all sensation was fading fast. He wouldn’t be feeling any kisses tonight, that was now obvious.

‘Jack’s going to come back to me, Ben.’

‘Yeah?’ He managed to get a word out.

She nodded. ‘I’m sure of it. I’ve been seeing him a lot, you know.’

‘Have you?’

‘Yup. Down at the gym. Iris doesn’t go there so I get him all to myself. He’s been so supportive. About the paper, I mean. And he’s helped me in the gym too. He’s just like he used to be, before that woman got her claws into him.’

‘Has he said anything?’

She shook her head, almost imperceptibly. ‘Not as such. He doesn’t need to. But I can tell. He sometimes uses his old pet name for me, it’s just like the old times.’

‘What about Iris?’

She shook her head dismissively. ‘He can’t love her. Not in the way he loved me. In the way I think he still loves me. He
can’t
. We had such a huge thing going. Earth shattering. Monumental.’

‘Daisy …’ Ben’s heart was twisting within him. She was making a terrible mistake here. Couldn’t she see it? ‘Don’t you think that maybe he’s moved on?’ he asked gently.

Daisy stared at him. ‘Moved on? Maybe, for a while. But he’s regretting it. I know he is. We were made to be together. Daisy and Jack.’ She rolled the words round her mouth. ‘Jack and Daisy. Sounds right, don’t you think?’

Ben stood up. His legs felt like lead, but he had to leave. He had to get out of here. He felt sick with disappointment. What a fool. He’d come through the door a mere hour ago so full of expectation and hope. And now he was leaving, weighed down by self-pity and helplessness.

Daisy uncurled herself and stood up. ‘You’re very special to me, Ben. We’ll always be friends, won’t we?’

Friends? No actually, that wasn’t what he wanted. He moved to the door. ‘Good night, Daisy. I’ll see myself out.’

‘Night, Ben. See you Monday.’

Monday. In the office. Right.

Ben sat in his dented, rusty bucket-heap of a car and watched the lights go out in the cottage, one by one. The euphoria he’d felt during the evening had evaporated and he felt tired to the bone. She was so wrong about Jack Hedderwick. She was fooling herself. But why? What kept drawing her back to this guy? Why look back into a past that hadn’t worked when there was a whole world to look forward into. A world with other men, guys who were solid and caring and who wouldn’t let her down. Like him, for example.

Sod it. Maybe it was time to move on somewhere else. He’d put out some feelers for work in Edinburgh, for starters. He turned the key in the ignition. The engine tried to start, but simply wheezed and died. Damn. He gave it a moment, then tried again. Nothing. Feeling for the headlight switch in the darkness with his fingers, he realised that he must have left the lights on when he’d gone inside with Daisy. He’d been so excited that he’d forgotten to check – and there was nothing as sophisticated as an alarm to remind you, not on this old bone-shaker. The battery was flat. Shit.

Tired, irritated and generally pissed off, Ben clambered out of the car and kicked the door shut behind him. He had two options – knock on the cottage door and ask Daisy for some floor space for the night, or walk home, five miles in pitch darkness. Well, he liked walking, didn’t he? Turning, he hunched his shoulders, set his head down to check where he was putting his feet, and started on the long road home.